


Come into these arms again

by redangeleve



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Addiction, Bittersweet, M/M, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Sith Anakin Skywalker, Suitless Darth Vader, Vader visits Obi-Wan in his sleep and drinks from him, Vampire Darth Vader, Vampire blood has magical healing powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27560425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redangeleve/pseuds/redangeleve
Summary: His heartbeat quickened, his pupils dilated and saliva flowed into his mouth, while his teeth involuntarily continued to erupt from his gums. Following an ancient drive, his eyes found the spot on Obi-Wan's throat where the pulse was throbbing under the skin. Vader could almost hear it. The blood of his old master called out to him, like the song of a siren, but Vader could still control himself. He was not yet ready to drink from him.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Past Anakin Skywalker/Padmé Amidala
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	Come into these arms again

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with a new one shot story, although I know I really should work on my WIPs …. Sorry guys, I promise I'll update them as soon as I can.  
> I really love "Lovesong for a Vampire" from Annie Lennox. It's from the film "Bram Stoker's Dracula" and I wrote this while I listened to it.

Come into these arms again  
And lay your body down  
The rhythm of this trembling heart  
It's beating like a drum

(Annie Lennox, Love song for a vampire)

The howling of the wind was shrill, almost as if someone was screaming for his life, but Obi-Wan had been on Tatooine long enough to know it was just an illusion. No one in their right mind would dare go outside in this weather. Though the days were hot and dry even in the winter months, the temperatures dropped rapidly when the two suns set, before the winds rose and soared to one big crescendo. The night had not yet reached its peak and Obi-Wan, driven by concern, walked from the small window of his dwelling to the door and checked the metal hinges. Though the transpirasteel had seen better days and had become stained and rusty from years of exposure to the elements, it still withstood the storm. In every crack and crevice, Obi-Wan had stuffed rags to keep the sand out, but he knew from experience that the fine grains would cover every surface in the hut tomorrow anyway.

Groaning and with stiff limbs, Obi-Wan finally let himself sink to his small bunk. There wasn't anything more he could do. With a bit of luck, the storm would have died down in the early hours of the morning so that he could go out and see if the vaporizers had been affected again before the two suns rose up the horizon and the heat made working outside impossible. If he hurried a little, he might even be able to pay a visit to the Lars and make sure everything was well and Luke was okay. Although Owen had made it clear how little he liked it when Obi-Wan looked after the boy, Beru didn't seem to mind if he came by and Obi-Wan wouldn't break his oath to protect Anakin's son just because his uncle didn't like him. 

Exhausted, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Although nothing fundamental had changed since his arrival on Tatooine a few months ago, the Jedi noticed that his strength was slowly disappaearing. He felt weak and feverish, and so infinitely tired. Bluish shadows lay under his eyes, his robe hung much looser than when he arrived, and the last time he looked in the mirror, he felt that he had become paler despite living under two suns. He had no appetite, often shivered, and sometimes he was so weak already at noon that he had to lie down for a short while. Perhaps it was because of the restless sleep at night and the terrible dreams that plagued him. About Mustafar, Anakin and the temple. Red eyes, dead children and clone soldiers fighting against Jedi. Death, pain and suffering in a seemingly endless loop. The cloud of hopelessness, loneliness and grief weighed heavily on Obi-Wan and although he tried again and again to release the feelings into the Force through meditation, he did not succeed in mastering them. On the contrary, they seemed to become more overwhelming with every passing day and made it impossible to find his center. No wonder he felt tired.

The howling of the wind continued to swell, making it less shrill but not softer, yet the sounds made Obi-Wan more and more sleepy until he couldn't keep awake anymore, so that he finally wrapped himself in his blanket and drifted into oblivion. For a while, the hut lay there peacefully, only Obi-Wan's deep breaths and the whistling and rustling of the storm could be heard until the bolt on the door suddenly moved. As if by magic, it was pushed to the side, then the door swung open and a dark masked figure entered. According to every law of nature, a cloud of sand should have blown into the dwelling with it, but it was as if the stranger was master of the elements, for not a single grain of sand found its way into the interior with it. At a wave of his hand the door closed again, then he wrapped the scarf from his face and flipped back the hood of his cloak. For a brief moment Vader looked around in the hut in the dim light of the lantern, and made sure that nothing had changed since his last visit, then he listened into the Force to make sure his arrival hadn't been noticed, but Obi-Wan slept so deeply that he didn't even flinch as his former Padawan approached.

Golden eyes fixed the sleeping Jedi as he stepped beside the bed and absorbed every detail of his former master, then Vader sat down almost silently on the edge of the mattress. Like every time he visited Obi-Wan, his smell hit him like a blow to the solar plexus. Oh, sweet Force, why had he never noticed how incredibly good Obi-Wan smelled before? Of tea and linen and the infinitely sweet aroma of his blood. For a moment, Vader seemed to have no air, overwhelmed by the strong sensory impressions, only to breathe in greedily a minute later. Immediately his predatory senses came alive. His heartbeat quickened, his pupils dilated and saliva flowed into his mouth, while his teeth involuntarily continued to erupt from his gums. Following an ancient drive, his eyes found the spot on Obi-Wan's throat where the pulse was throbbing under the skin. Vader could almost hear it. The blood of his old master called out to him, like the song of a siren, but Vader could still control himself. He was not yet ready to drink from him.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Vader pulled the glove from his carnal hand and combed through Obi-Wan's hair with his fingers. To be able to feel the silky strands at his fingertips was something Vader would be thankful to Darth Sidious for all his life. He had been more dead than alive, burned beyond recognition and badly mutilated, when he found him after the battle on Mustafar, but thanks to the blood Sidious had given Vader, he did not die. On the contrary, it had not only allowed him to survive, but also ensured that Vader's severed limbs had grown back and healed his burns. Only the hand that Dooku had cut off at the beginning of the Clone Wars could not be replaced by the Sith. Its loss had been too long ago, and the wounds had long since healed. 

It was truly ironic that the members of the Jedi Order had not only been blind to the fact that the Chancellor of the Republic they were protecting was actually a Sith Lord, but that he was probably the only vampire in the Core Worlds. Through his blood, Vader was now so much stronger than he had ever been before. The dark side of the Force spoke to him as the light side never had. Thanks to Sidious, Vader could now unfold his full potential. He was able to live out all the feelings he had had to suppress with the Jedi, he could follow every impulse, even if the consequences were sometimes beyond imagination. For this gift Anakin Skywalker had sworn unconditional obedience to the Sith Lord, had discarded his old self and had become Darth Vader. He had killed his own people for him, burned down the temple, and reduced the Republic to rubble. It hadn't mattered to him anyway. He had not been able to save his wife despite his transformation. Padme had already been dead when Sidious gave him his new life, and the child had died with her. So it was only right that the Republic, to which she had dedicated her whole life, should die with her.

The only thing that still mattered to him now lay in bed before him. Clueless, sleeping, helpless. It would have been easy for him to kill Obi-Wan when he found him on Tatooine one night, but Vader didn't do it. Hadn't ripped out his throat and bathed in his blood, as he had sometimes imagined. He couldn't even say what was holding him back. An improper sentimentality, a final thread that tied him to his old life despite everything that had happened between them? Vader did not know. All he could say was that when he saw his old master, for the first time since the fight on Mustafar, something had stirred in him. For the first time he had felt something other than anger and sadness and pain, but he didn't dare to put that feeling into words for fear of what that knowledge would do to him.

So Vader couldn't kill him, but he didn't want to leave him and let him live his life either. Obi-Wan owed him something and Vader had plans to collect that debt. So he had waited until Obi-Wan had fallen asleep in his hut, then he had sought him out and fed on him. It wasn't the first time he drank the blood of a Force-sensitive being, so he knew it made him so much stronger than the blood of an ordinary being, but he had not been prepared for how good the blood of his old master would taste to him. It seemed sweeter to him than anything he had ever tasted. Perhaps it was because of the bond they had once shared, but from the moment he drank from him, Vader could no longer imagine ever drinking from another. 

So he had come back and done it again. 

And again.

And again.

On and on, although he could see that his visits had left their mark on Obi-Wan. It wasn't the bites that Vader healed immediately after drinking, so Obi-Wan's neck was now full of scars. No, it was the changes that took place with him. The paleness of his skin, which was now so white that the fine network of blood vessels could be seen shimmering through it. The weight loss that made Obi-Wan's face look more and more sunken despite his beard. And it was his presence in the Force that seemed to become weaker and flickering. It was a deathly path, Vader knew that, but although he could hardly bear the thought of losing Obi-Wan once more, it was impossible for him to stop feeding on him. Vader was addicted to Obi-Wan's blood and he didn't know how to get rid of it.

Although still deep in the clutches of sleep, Obi-Wan moved under the caresses of the strange fingers, leaning closer to the touch, so that Vader smiled self-satisfied. His old master sought contact, even wanted it, albeit unconsciously, so Vader allowed himself to go a little further. Carefully, he bent over Obi-Wan and pressed his lips to his forehead, only slightly, like the touch of a hummingbird, but it was enough to elicit a satisfied sigh from the Jedi's mouth. "Anakin," he murmured, and his hands opened and closed as if trying to reach for him.

"Yes, Master, I'm here," Vader replied so close to his skin that his warm breath sent goose bumps over Obi-Wan's body, then his fingers stroked Obi-Wan's temple, making him forget what he had heard immediately. "Sleep, Master. Sleep."

Obediently, Obi-Wan relaxed even further and his fingers went limp again as he drifted deeper into sleep. Satisfied, Vader straightened up a little further. Let his gaze wander over Obi-Wan's familiar face, down the edge of his bearded jaw until it lingered on his neck again. The vein still throbbed tantalizingly, and Vader's desire was almost unbearable. Full of anticipation, he licked his lips, then bent down and pressed his nose over the pulsating blood-vessel. The smell was so strong here that Vader thought he was losing his mind. His teeth had come so far out of his jaw that he could barely close his lips, his mouth was full of saliva, and the pressure in his gums was almost painful, he yearned so much to finally bite Obi-Wan's throat and drink from him. Almost tenderly he kissed the skin over the pulse point, then he opened his mouth and sank his pointed fangs deep into the vein.

Obi-Wan immediately stiffened and an involuntary gasp escaped his throat, which Vader answered without hesitation with another Force suggestion, so that the Jedi immediately went limp again. The first drop of blood on his tongue made Vader almost drunk with euphoria. The taste seemed to explode in his mouth, his thinking stopped and he reacted only by pure instinct. His heart beat even faster and he grabbed Obi-Wan's body tighter, pulled him closer and held him near so no one could snatch the prey from him. Greedily, he sucked the blood into himself, making it flood his mouth and cloud his senses. The Force sang a true masterpiece inside of him and Vader felt a contentment within himself that he otherwise sought in vain. Only in those moments, when he acted as a vessel and just let himself be filled, was he one with the light and the dark side of the Force. It was intoxicating. It was uplifting, better than sex, better than drugs, better than anything else in the universe, the purest form of ecstasy. 

After a moment of stumbling, his heartbeat synchronized with Obi-Wan's and he felt as if their bodies and minds had merged, as if they had become one living being. Their Force signatures touched, turned over, and intertwined so that Vader involuntarily wished this moment would never end and knew at the same time that this was impossible. With every sip he took, Obi-Wan grew weaker, his heartbeat slower, his presence in the Force barely noticeable, so Vader had to fight to regain control of himself. Once he passed a certain point, there would be no going back. Obi-Wan would die whether Vader wanted him to or not. But he would not take that risk.

It cost Vader all his willpower to finally withdraw. The vampire in him hissed and growled, but the Sith in him locked the beast back into the furthest corner of himself. Carefully, Vader licked over the two bloody spots on his former master's neck, sealing them that way. In a few minutes, they would begin to heal, and in an hour they would be barely distinguishable from the other scars on his neck. That was all Vader could do to make up for what he had taken from him. Satisfied, he listened to the quiet breaths and registered the constant raising and lowering of his chest. Obi-Wan would be weaker in the morning than in the evening, but he would live. That was more than he had granted Anakin on Mustafar. More than once, Vader had wrestled with himself whether he should punish his former master by giving him the same gift Sidious had given him back then, precisely because he knew it would be more of a curse than a blessing for him, but if he turned Obi-Wan into a vampire, he would not be able to drink from him anymore, and Vader didn't want to give up this pleasure. Not yet. Soon. One day, perhaps. Someday.

With this thought he finally got up from the bed. The night was already half over and he must have left the planet before the suns rose and Sidious noticed his absence. For the last time, Vader gently placed his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead, ensuring that his former master would continue to sleep deeply and firmly, forgetting any memory of the events of that night, then he put his glove back on, raised his hood, and wrapped the scarf around his head to give the sand as little surface to attack as possible. Even though he was able to use the Force to keep the wind away from him, he still hated the sand as much as he did as a child.

"See you soon, Master, and may the Force be with you," he said goodbye to Obi-Wan before turning away and opening the door with a silent command. As if it had only waited for that chance, the wind immediately tried to get inside, howling, but Vader held him at bay until he had left the hut and closed the door again from outside. Then he stomped away, a shapeless dark shadow, in the midst of the raging storm, and the hut lay there again as quietly as it had been before he arrived.

With a sigh, Obi-Wan turned over in bed. "Goodbye, Anakin," he murmured indistinctly. "And may the Force be with you forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Hands up, who would be interested in a sequel?


End file.
